


Heaven Help Him

by Blownwish



Series: please please please let me get what I want this time [3]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Catholic Guilt, Catholic Jean, Jean is in denial, M/M, Otapliroy, past jjbek, some otayuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-17 04:40:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11268144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blownwish/pseuds/Blownwish
Summary: Jean is a heterosexual guy, who loves and respects his fiancé, and is tormented by the Mortal Sin of Lust when he's around the other skaters. God in heaven, please show him mercy?





	Heaven Help Him

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Farasha](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Farasha/gifts).



> Prompt given by [Farasha](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Farasha/pseuds/Farasha)  
> at the Madness Discord chat. Hope it fits the bill?
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you [blackmountainbones](http://archiveofourown.org/users/blackmountainbones/pseuds/blackmountainbones)  
> for listening to my moaning and groaning over this. I'm such a doof and you're the best.

Jean was raised to respect women, because women were wives and mothers and sisters and they were absolutely, positively not sex objects to be used for selfish purposes. Not that sex was bad. No! Sex was absolutely beautiful when a man and a woman came together in holy matrimony, joined together with God’s blessing. He believed it, too - and not just because his mom and dad had drummed it into his head since his first wet dream. _(Don't feel bad about all those dirty dreams, Jean. Just remember to bring it up during Confession and Father Dubois will give you absolution.)_ No, he really, truly believed women were to be cherished and respected and that he would only have sex with one woman, after he was married. If it was good enough for his dad then it was plenty good for the Jay Man.

“But don't you love me?”

Jean kissed Isabella’s knuckles and backed away before she could push him under the awning and let temptation have its way with her. They already kissed twice. Once, real quick on the lips was okay, but twice, a little slower, was pushing it. Lust was one of the Seven Deadly Sins and he was not about to look for it at - what was this basilica called? The Sagrada Famillia? Good grief! That meant _Sacred Family!_ As in _Jesus, Mary and Joseph!_ He was not going to commit sacrilege here, with her. He couldn't do that to Isabella, or the Virgin Mary. “It's because I do love you. You're precious, Bella. I want to treat you right.”

She sighed. “We better get married, fast. You're killing me, baby.”

Oh, they would. And it was going to be perfect, to boot. He wanted to make it special for her, lay her down on silk sheets and play the ballads he'd recorded just for their wedding night as they became one flesh. And then he wanted to hold her in his arms and give her his wedding night present: a three story house down in Westmount. He’d already put a down payment on it with the Canadian Tire sponsorship money. They'd raise a passel of Quebecois rugrats and live happily ever after. Yeah, his Isabella deserved the very best and he was going to give it to her, JJ Style.

Only… only he had this bad habit. Father Dubois said these things happened, especially among young male athletes, and he always absolved him of his sins during Confession, promising Jean it would pass as soon as he was married and able to express his urges in a healthy manner. “But listen to me carefully, my son. You are still compelled, as a confirmed Roman Catholic, to follow Canon Law.” Jean could see Father through the confessional screen, turning his wire glasses around and around. “Homosexuality is not an appropriate sexual expression.”

“Does it count if it's just, well, hands?” He couldn't say _handjobs_ in church. He could barely say it at all. “Not even kissing. Just hands.”

“And you put your hands on them as well?”

Jean hung his head. It was always the same. He tried to deny it was homosexual and Father always caught his self deception. But what was he supposed to do when he was in a room full of ripped, half naked guys, and Christophe asked him if he wanted to share a shower? And where was he supposed to go, that one time after Skate Canada, when everyone somehow decided to have a big circle jerk in the locker room? When Plisetsky looked at him like a cat in heat and ordered him: _Get me off, asshole._ Or last year, when Katsuki got ripped at the Sochi Grand Prix banquet and invited the entire men’s roster back to his hotel room for an orgy? Okay, so maybe Jean let Katsuki use his mouth on him - but it was just for a minute! And, okay, he did more than watch for the rest of it. But he was only human, and it didn't mean he was homosexual. He would have preferred to be married and having sex with Isabella, which meant he was a hundred percent heterosexual. Only, it was still bad and wrong and very, very shameful.

“Uh, more than hands, Father.”

“Oh, dear. Pray one Rosary for sodomy, and another for the lie. _Deinde, ego te absolvo a peccatis tuis in nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti. Amen._ ” Father made the Sign of the Cross and Jean quickly did the same. “Think about your life, my son. Reflect on what God wants for you and embrace His Greater Plan.”

++

“You sure you're not going to get all weird, and talk about Jesus again?” Plisetsky does not look convinced. Jean shakes his head anyway, as Otabek unzips his pants. “I don't believe him.”

“He did the same thing back when we trained together.” Otabek spits in his hand and - finally! - starts jerking Jean off, working his foreskin up and down over his dick with that cool little twist Jean remembers him using, back in Montreal, when they were sixteen and Otabek was staying at his house. Jean doesn't get sentimental about the summer they spent ‘practicing’ on each other, because love is not for guys. But he does remember lots of things about Otabek: the way his arm bunches up when Jean grabs it, how his breath hitches when he looks Jean in the eye as he touches him back, and how he closes his eyes and groans, right before he comes. “He's very religious.”

“He's very stupid.” Plisetsky is still wearing that wild getup from his exhibition skate. Jean wonders what Father Dubois would say about eye makeup and lipgloss on a boy, or the shredded shirt and tight leather pants. He's pretty sure his dad walked out of the rink as soon as he got a load of what Plisetsky was offering up. “You gonna cream for me, Jeh-Jeh? Maybe get on your knees and suck me off this time?” He doesn't even realize Otabek is pushing him to his knees, but he does see him out the gold medal around Plisetsky’s neck. “He looks like he's about to pray.” Otabek’s fingers run through his hair as Plisetsky peels the leather down and shows Jean the pinkest, ripest dick, just made for sucking.

“Go on, Jean.” Otabek pushes his head forward and Jean opens his mouth, like he's receiving Communion.

He's going to go to the Sagrada Famillia basilica tomorrow morning for confession this time. It will be a week until he's back in Montreal and that's too long for something this bad. But, God forgive him, he's getting so hard. And when he hears Otabek’s fly come down? He's even harder. So hard he's probably going to come without jerking off, all over his track suit. So hard he's probably not going to care if someone opens the locker room door and sees him like this. “Come here.” Otabek pulls him off and shoves his dick in Jean’s mouth. “Touch him while you suck me.”

Jean is not gay. He's completely straight. He just happens to do this from time to time. As long as God forgives him, and Isabella marries him, everything will be okay and he can forget all about indulging in lust.

“I almost like him this way,” Plisetsky’s voice is husky, his dick is sloppy wet, and his hands tug Jean’s head back so he can spit in his mouth. “You like this, Catholic boy? You like lots of dick? Gonna cry to Jesus about it?" He nearly comes when Plisetsky shoves it back in his mouth and starts fucking his face. “It's like you were made to suck my dick.”

No he was not. God made Jean and Yuri Plisetsky and Otabek Altin for better things. There is someone out there for them, just like Isabella is there for Jean. And they'd all be able to love those girls like they were meant to be loved and feel love, right back. It was too bad they are so caught up in this lustful, sinful cycle.

“Yeah, Jeh-Jeh. Maybe we should make this a tradition. I win and you blow us.” When Jean looks up, when he sees that beautiful, angry face, when he chokes as Plisetsky shoots down his throat, when Otabek tells him to swallow it all, Jean _comes_.

Lust is a terrible sin. He needs to ask the Virgin Mary for intervention because he is powerless in the face of temptation. And She will do it, because his love for Isabella was pure and real and right.

“Now me, Jean.”

He turns toward Otabek, opens his mouth and looks up. This is the last time, he promises the Virgin Mary. The very last time.

**Author's Note:**

> Come on down and say hey to me on tumblr @ [blownwish-blog](http://blownwish-blog.tumblr.com) :D


End file.
